


Speechless

by sialynn



Category: Free!
Genre: Accident, Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Hospital, Loss, M/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-03
Updated: 2013-12-03
Packaged: 2018-01-03 08:01:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1068013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sialynn/pseuds/sialynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haru's habit of keeping quiet has cost him something more dear to him than his own life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speechless

It had been almost a month since Makoto's accident, and Haru hadn't been to school. Some days he could muster up the strength to take the train to the hospital and sit with Makoto, but most days he spent in his bathtub, staring blankly at the ceiling and wondering how difficult it was to drown oneself. 

They had been fighting on their walk home. Haru had said something mean, not that he meant to, he just really didn't know better, and Makoto was angry with him. Makoto had said something that dug a little too deep, and Haru replied in turn. Hurt, angry, upset, Makoto had pulled away from him and stepped into the road, intending to walk on the opposite side from Haru.

_I saw the truck coming. I knew it would hit him. I should have called out. I should have warned him._

Haru remembered each individual noise that resulted from that collision. The crunch of the metal hood, the snapping of Makoto's bones, the dull thud of his friend's limp body hitting the pavement, and the sharp snap of his head whipping against the road. The truck driver went to Makoto's aid before Haru did. The man pointed to Haru and told him to call an ambulance, but Haru didn't say anything back, and he didn't call.

"What the hell are you doing? Do you  _want_ him to die?" The truck driver shouted. "Useless sack of shit!" He pulled out his own phone and dialed to report the accident. 

Now Haru was sitting in the hospital by Makoto's bedside, unknowingly witness to his last moments.

_This is my fault, Makoto. It's all my fault. I'm so sorry._  

Makoto's chest jolted and the breathing apparatus he was hooked up to wheezed and groaned to keep oxygen pumping into his lungs. Haru rested a gentle hand on Makoto's broad chest, wincing away when he felt the disfigurement there. Makoto's chest jumped again, and again. The machines began beeping, the lines on the monitor's spiked. 

_Something is wrong. I should call for a nurse._ Haru opened his mouth, but the words he needed to say just wouldn't come out. Only one word, "Makoto,"

He said it again. "Makoto."

There was so much more than he wanted to say, needed to say, but couldn't.

_I'm sorry that I'm broken, Makoto, and I'm sorry that I broke you._

The frantic and desparate sounds of panicked machines came to a halt, and as the rises and falls of the lines on that monitor faded to a long flat line, Haru felt his already crumbling world finally collapse around him. Haru began searching through the drawers, quickly, as he knew he didn't have much time before doctors and nurses poured in from the halls like disturbed hornets from their nest.

Ah, there it was. An empty syringe, containing nothing but air. Haru had researched this the night before. He had known Makoto might not survive, and this was his contingency plan. He plunged the needle between his ribs, wincing at the pain but not making a noise.

_Makoto,_

Haru pressed down on the plunger, injecting the air directly into his heart. Now his chest jolted. His body felt wrong, but this was right to him. He couldn't breathe soon. His body instinctively struggled for hair though he willed it to relax and pass peacefully into darkness. As the world began to fade away, Haru used the last of his breath to remind the world what was so dear to him that he would rather die than be without it.

"Makoto," he breathed, broken and ragged.

_Makoto,_

_I love you._


End file.
